Losing Penny (15 page)

“That’s so not right. I didn’t even know how
to play. Start over.”

“No. This game can get real ugly.”

“One point.”

“Wait, no.”

“Absolutely. I just learned you don’t want to
play this game.”

She rolled her eyes and carefully thought.
“Are you writing a book about a Viking named Hans?”

Drake stopped in the middle of the road and
opened his mouth then closed it. After a moment he asked, “If I
don’t answer then I lose?”

She nodded.

“Of all the questions you could ask, you want
to know about Vikings?”

“No deflecting! You can’t answer a question
with a question.”

“Is that a rule? What are the other
rules?”

Penny hobbled along, her foot throbbing. “Yes
or no? Are you writing a book about Vikings?”

“You play mean.”

“I could have asked much harder
questions.”

“Like what?”

“You’re deflecting again.”

“I want to know the harder questions.”

“I’m saving them for later. So yes or no? Are
you or are you not writing a Viking story?”

“Yes.”

Penny squealed and clapped her hands. “Oh, I
can’t wait to finish it.”

The corner of Drake’s lip twitched. “Just
because I’m writing it doesn’t mean I’ll finish it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s trash, that’s why.”

Penny stopped and put her hands on her hips.
“How can you say that?”

“Says the girl who reads about vampires named
Sookie and Snivel Drivel.” He turned around to walk backwards and
grin at her.

“Vikings are way cooler than vampires and
drivel.”

His shoulders twitched.

“Everyone writes about vampires. No one
writes about Vikings.”

“I’m not writing it, Penny.”

“Well, obviously you are.”

He sighed. “Only when I can’t write anything
else.”

“Oh my gosh! That’s your secret! You write
what you consider trash, which I consider brilliant, by the way,
and you don’t want anyone to know! You’re afraid all your professor
friends will find out you write about Vikings and sea
serpents.”

He scoffed. “I thought you said you read
it.”

“I did.”

“Then you would know there are no sea
serpents.”

She nodded. “Yes, I know, but there should
be.”

“And maybe some ninjas?”

“Don’t be silly. There weren’t any ninja’s in
the 800s.”

“Oh, but there were sea serpents?”

“Probably. How could we possibly know? And
since we don’t know then we shouldn’t rule out the
possibility.”

“It doesn’t matter, because Hans lived in the
eleventh century.”

“He was a contemporary of Chaucer?”

“No, Chaucer lived in the fourteenth century
and Hans
never
existed
.”

Penny considered this then asked, “Why didn’t
you want to go into the Bluebird Café?”

“What? One minute we’re talking about sea
serpents and Chaucer—”

“Vikings,” Penny corrected him.

Drake dipped his head, acknowledging his
mistake. “And now you want to talk about the Bluebird Café?

“You’re deflecting, again.”

Drake shrugged and opened his mouth.

“If you lie, I win.”

Drake closed his mouth and pinched his lips.
“How will you know I’m lying?”

“I’m very good at reading people, and you’re
deflecting again.”

Bright lights crested over the hill and
spilled toward them making their shadows long. Drake lifted his
hand and Penny shielded her eyes. The pickup, an ancient Ford,
rumbled to a stop next to them, and Mick, the driver, offered them
a ride.

“Flashes of
Breakdown,”
Penny
said.

“I thought you said you hadn’t seen it.”

“I haven’t,” Penny said. “But I bet there’s a
truck in it exactly like this one.”

Drake nodded solemnly. “There is. And the
wife gets in it then disappears. That’s why I’m going with
you.”

The quarters inside the truck were cramped,
so Penny had to sit on Drake’s lap. The last time she’d sat on
someone’s lap she’d been younger than twelve. After that, only the
truly brave, stupid, or masochistic would have offered her their
lap, and no one ever had. But back then she wouldn’t have found
Drake’s legs so hard. He had his arms loosely around her waist,
holding her to him.

Zero, a dog of indeterminate parentage,
watched them from under his bushy eyebrows, waiting for signs of
aggression. He clearly wasn’t happy about being rousted from his
spot on the passenger seat.

“I’m sure you two don’t mind being squished
together,” Mick said as he put the truck in gear. “It’s better than
walking.”

“Of course,” Drake said, shifting Penny on
his lap.

Penny wanted to ask why Zero couldn’t go and
sit in the truck bed, but since she’d rather ride with a dog
pressing against her leg than limp the remaining five miles home,
she tried not to mind the drool. Or smell.

“When I saw you hobbling down the road, I
knew you had to be in trouble.” The tattoos on Mick’s forearms
moved as he turned the truck around a bend.

“Our car broke down,” Drake told him. “You’re
a lifesaver.”

Mick flashed mismatched teeth at them. “No
one’s ever called me that before!”

Drake’s arms tightened around her.

“Where you two headed? Back to your car or to
the gas station?”

Penny looked up the road. “If you could drop
us off at the next stop sign, we can walk home.”

“Penny—” Drake began.

“There’s a cut through the woods,” she told
him. “I’m sure it’s still there. We used to take it all the time
when we were kids.”

“It’s dark,” Drake said.

“There’s a moon,” Penny retorted.

Mick laughed. “You two must be married.”

Penny tried to catch Drake’s eye, but since
his face was somewhere over her left ear, she couldn’t see his
expression.

“Yes,” Drake said. Penny felt his answer,
because his breathing changed.

Mick laughed. “I can always tell.”

Neither Penny or Drake spoke, so Mick asked
about Drake’s car.

While Drake provided the make, model, and
year, Penny leaned against him, her eyes heavy with sleep.

“It made a ker-chunk, ker-chunk noise,” Drake
told Mick.

Penny smiled, loving Drake’s use of words.
Her mind drifted back to the Viking story.

***

“Penny,” Drake gently shook her. “Wake up.
We’re here.”

“Hmm?” She brushed her hair back and pushed
Zero’s head off her knee. The dog gave her a reproachful look.

The truck idled in the driveway, and the
headlights illuminated the yard.

“We’re home?” Penny said, surprised.

“Yes, thanks to Mick,” Drake said, sliding
Penny off his lap before climbing out of the truck. He fumbled in
his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Can I pay you?”

“No, let me,” Penny said, reaching into her
purse.

“She’s a keeper, man,” Mick said, laughing.
“Now, my wife, she don’t pay for nothing but hairspray.”

“I don’t use hairspray, so I have cash,”
Penny said, pulling out a twenty.

“You don’t owe me nothing,” Mick said.

“Are you sure?” Penny asked.

“Naw, just go and do good,” Mick said,
putting his car into gear as Penny jumped out. She’d forgotten
about her hurt foot and would have fallen if Drake hadn’t caught
her.

They stood in the moonlight, Drake’s arms
holding her against him. He looked down at her upturned face, his
eyes as dark as the night sky. The thought of kissing Drake warmed
her. She lifted her lips toward his, wanting to taste him, wanting
him to want her.

She hadn’t thought of Drake like this until
now, but somewhere on the drive home her feelings had turned.
Things had changed for her, and she saw in his eyes that things had
changed for him too. His lips brushed against hers.

A kiss would complicate things, because one
kiss wouldn’t be enough—she knew that when his kiss deepened. There
would have to be many, many kisses.

“Drake?” A female voice called out.

Drake flinched away from Penny like he had
brushed against an open flame.

“Melinda?” Penny whispered, bringing her
fingertips to her lips where she still tasted Drake’s kiss.

“Worse.” Drake shook his head, his eyes full
of apology. He held her hand, but the distance between them gaped,
and Penny shivered in the cold of his absence. “My mom.”

Scientists once believed that people found
kissing pleasurable because kissing generated an electrical
current. This may not be true, but kissing can still be quite
shocking. Kissing is actually good for you, so pucker up and let
the smooching begin!

From
Losing Penny and Pounds

“I didn’t mean…I
guess I didn’t think you’d have company.” Drake’s mom not only
sounded like an apology, but she looked like one as she stood on
the porch, ringing her hands. She was middle-aged and tall with
blonde wispy hair. The moonlight shone through her thin, cotton
dress, and a sweater hung on her shoulders. She took an audible
deep breath. “You must be Melinda,” she said with forced
cheerfulness.

Drake sighed and took Penny’s hand. “No, Mom,
this is Penny. Penny, this is my mom, Mia.”

Penny lifted her eyebrows at him, and Drake
gave a small shake of his head and mouthed, “I can’t lie to my
mom.”

Drake stepped forward to give his mom a tight
hug. Penny watched, smiling as Mia closed her eyes and leaned
against Drake. Mia took two steps away, cocked her head, and
considered Penny with a small smile on her lips.

“Oh, and you two…” she motioned toward the
beach house.

Drake fished a house key from his pocket,
unlocked the door, and pushed it open.

“I sleep upstairs and Drake is camped out on
the back porch,” Penny told her. “We just met two days ago. My aunt
owns this cottage, and Drake and I are her matchmaking victims.”
Penny smiled and limped toward the front porch.

Mia visibly relaxed, her shoulders dropping a
fraction as she walked into the tiny living room. She frowned at
Penny’s shoes and socks lying in the center of the room and at the
balled up quilt in the corner of the sofa. Her eyes traveled into
the kitchen and took in the all the ingredients standing on the
counter.

Penny wondered why Drake’s mom was here and
how long she planned on staying.

Drake must have read her mind, because he
said, “It’s late, Mom, is everything all right?”

Mia stretched her lips across her teeth in a
mock smile and her eyes welled with tears. “Of course, I just
didn’t want you to be alone on your birthday.”

“Today’s not my birthday.”

“Well, I know that, silly. I was there when
you were born. I remember it perfectly. It seems like only
yesterday. It wasn’t late when I left, or when I arrived, of
course. I’ve been waiting.” Her last sentence sounded like an
accusation.

Penny looked back and forth between mother
and son. Drake clearly didn’t know what to do with his mom. “Well,
it’s dark and late now. You have to stay,” Penny said. Maybe not
until the birthday, whenever that might be, but for the night.
“Drake and I were making some eggplant parmesan, would you like
some?”

Mia’s face brightened as Drake’s darkened.
Obviously he didn’t like Penny’s idea as much as his mother
did.

“Eggplant parmesan? That sounds lovely. Did
you say Drake was helping you?”

Penny nodded. “Between the two of us, it
shouldn’t take long now. Are you hungry?”

Mia glanced at Drake who was leaning in the
kitchen doorway. “I didn’t know you cooked, sweetie.”

Drake nodded. “I took it up after—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but his mother
nodded knowingly and patted his belly. “You had to learn to feed
yourself after Blair left. My baby is growing up.”

Penny cracked four eggs into a shallow bowl,
hypersensitive to Mia’s eyes on her back. Mia must have questions
whirring in her head, but Penny had some questions of her own. Like
what would have happened if Mia hadn’t interrupted their moonlight
moment? And, what was Drake’s secret? And—how could she get Mia to
leave, without hurting her feelings, of course, so that she and
Drake could continue whatever had started in the moonlight? And—was
moonlight a necessary ingredient for romance? Could she get Drake
to kiss her in the daylight? Before breakfast? After lunch? A
pre-dinner snack? Penny picked up a whisk and beat the eggs as hard
and as fast as she could.

“Are you sure I won’t be in the way if I stay
here?” Mia asked, as she settled down in a kitchen chair. Penny was
sure that Mia meant “if I stay here forever.”

Until when? Because Penny knew the one place
she didn’t want to kiss Drake was in front of his mom. Mia had
said,
if I stay here
—not
if I stay the night, or the
week, or the month.
No, she’d definitely said
, if I
stay.
A bit of the eggs slopped over the bowl’s edge and onto
Penny’s fingers. She wiped them on her jeans and looked up to see
Mia watching her with a scowl wedged between her eyebrows.

Drake bit his lip, his gaze locked on his
mom. “Where’s dad?”

“Oh, you know your father, always traveling…”
her voice trailed away as she picked up the bowl of seasoned bread
crumbs. “Do you dip that in here?” she asked, motioning to the
dripping eggplant slice hanging from Penny’s fork.

Penny nodded. “Drake, could you get the
casserole dish ready? It needs a couple of tablespoons of olive oil
drizzled in the bottom.”

Drake sighed like a martyr and did as he was
told.

***

The door exploded and shards of splintered
wood flew through the cabin. She tightened her shawl around her
head and crouched beneath the berth, trying to be as small and
still as possible. The Pirate King burst into the room, wielding a
wavy-bladed dagger. Tattoos covered his brawny chest and arms. When
he caught sight of her he smiled and revealed his stained teeth
that had been filed to sharp points. Shark teeth. His men crowded
behind him, the lust in their eyes mirroring their King’s.